


My body

by bottledyarn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cancer, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-19 13:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottledyarn/pseuds/bottledyarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn has cancer</p>
            </blockquote>





	My body

**Author's Note:**

> Originally by request on my tumblr.

          “Guys,” Louis whispered, slipping into the room quietly. “I just overheard Zayn’s phone call with his mum.”

            “So?” Liam asked. “How do you overhear a phone call, anyway?”

            “I picked up one of the phones and then realized that somebody was already using one of the others…”

            “So you listened?” Niall asked, crossing his arms. “What if it was personal?”

            “It was personal!” Louis exclaimed.

            “Louis,” Harry said. “If you’re trying to tell us something about Zayn, I don’t want to know if it’s his business.”

            “It’s important,” Louis hissed, glancing out into the hallway briefly before sitting down. “I picked up the phone, and I just heard Zayn’s mum freaking out and yelling ‘I know you haven’t gone back to the doctor yet, you have to pick up that medicine, you’re going to have to go eventually’.”

            “Medicine for what?” Niall asked. “Wait, no, I don’t want to know.”

            Harry stared steadfastly towards the floor, not wanting to let the others see the panicked look in his eyes.  He had no clue that Zayn had some kind of…disease?

            “Anyway,” Louis said.  “So then Zayn yelled back ‘I don’t give a fuck about anemia medicine, I just want to be normal’ and she just kind of yelled nonsense at him for a while.”

            “Anemia?” Liam asked. “What even is that?”

            Niall reached for a laptop, typing quickly before reading. “Anemia is a condition in which the body does not have enough healthy red blood cells. Red blood cells provide oxygen to body tissues. Symptoms: Possible symptoms include: Chest pain, Dizziness or light-headedness, weakness, and headaches.”

            “Is it serious?” Harry asked quietly, looking up from the floor to Niall.    

            “It can’t be that serious, he wouldn’t have been able to hide it for so long otherwise,” Liam said. “Or it could have just surfaced recently.”

            “We should just ask him,” Niall said. “There’s no use talking about him.”

            As if on cue, Zayn entered, his face tense.  They all instantly started picking apart his appearance- the slight slump to his shoulders, the light bags under his eyes, how quickly he breathed, the recent weight loss that they all suddenly could see, the flushed pallor of his cheeks…

            He instantly realized they were staring at him and strangely quiet, and he paused, staring back at them. “Is there something on my face?” he asked, touching his cheek lightly.

            “Zayn,” Harry said, his voice almost hoarse. “Are you okay?”

            Zayn’s eyes widened slightly. “Why do you ask?”

            They sat there quietly for a moment, not sure what to say.

            “I heard your conversation on the phone,” Louis blurted.  
            Zayn turned to Louis, his face blank. “Oh.” 

            “Is it serious?” Liam asked, his voice sounding as terrified as Harry felt.  “We searched it online, but we weren’t sure…”

            “Yeah, I guess it is.”

            Harry took a sharp breath involuntarily.  “What?”

            “It’s serious,” Zayn said slowly.  “That’s why my mum was angry.”

            “Oh, god, Zayn,” Harry said. “How serious?”

            “How much of the conversation did you hear?” Zayn asked Louis.

            “I just heard you say you were tired of having anemia, basically.”

            “Oh,” Zayn said. “So you don’t know.”

            “Know what?” Niall asked. “Isn’t anemia alone enough?”

            “I was going to tell you guys,” Zayn said, sitting down. “I only found out a week ago.”

            “Found out what?” Liam asked, leaning his elbows on his knees and shifting forward.

            “I’m sorry,” Zayn said, blinking a few times.  “I don’t want to mess this up,” he said, his voice broken. “I don’t want to have to take medicine and go to the doctors; I don’t want to ruin all of this that we have.”

            “Whatever this is, it’s not going to ruin anything,” Louis said.  “If you have to take medicine, or you get sick, or whatever, it’s fine, we’ll be fine.”

            “It’s not just medicine,” Zayn said, taking a tiny gasp of breath, keeping his eyes down.  “That was just what I was complaining about during the moment you were listening.”

            Harry swallowed hard, not wanting to hear this, not wanting to have his terrible suspicions confirmed.

            “The anemia is a side effect of the type of cancer I have.” Zayn said, finally lifting his eyes to see the other boys, his eyes reddened and wet.

            They all sat there for a long, silent moment until Louis abruptly stood up, whipping the glass of soda he’d been carrying against the wall, making a cacophonous crash.  He let out a scream as he did it, making them all wince.

            “Louis, sit down!” Zayn said, jumping up and grabbing Louis’ shaking shoulders.  “It’s okay!”

            “It’s not _okay_ ,” Louis screeched. “Cancer? Cancer!”

            “Louis,” Liam said quietly.  “Sit down.”

            Louis took a deep breath and sat, pressing a hand to his face.

            Harry sat silently still, not able to move, breathe, think.  Cancer.

            “What are the, um, the odds?” Niall asked quietly. 

            “Ninety percent.”

            Liam gasped in a breath. “Ninety percent good or ninety percent bad?”

            “Ninety percent good,” Zayn said. “I have a ninety percent chance of surviving.”

            Louis huffed out a heavy breath, covering his face with both hands. 

            “Thank god,” Liam said hoarsely, leaning back.

            “What is it, exactly?” Niall asked.

            “Hodgkin’s lymphoma,” Zayn said. “That’s what caused the anemia.”

            “Do you have to get chemo?”

            “Yeah, starting in a week,” Zayn said. “It’s, uh, it’s stage two of four, so it’s not too bad.”

            “Are you going to be able to do shows?” Liam asked.

            “I’m not stopping performing until I can’t leave the hospital,” Zayn said fiercely. “I’ll perform even if I have to sit down the whole time, I don’t care.”

            Niall stood up suddenly, giving Zayn a tight hug.

            Harry watched as the other two did the same, still frozen in his spot.  He finally moved, leaping out of his chair and leaving the room, letting the door slam behind him.

            He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He should have stayed, comforting his friend who had _cancer_ of all things. But his body was taking him away, making him storm away from the suffocating, small room and out of Zayn’s apartment where they had all been hanging out.

            Harry strode down the road without any real destination, brushing past the handful of girls whose eyes widened as they recognized him. One even shrieked and grabbed his arm, begging for an autograph, and he stormed on, throwing her hand off.

            He realized later that he would be considered rude for this later, but he had to get away, he had to do something, he just didn’t know what that something was.

            He ended up careening down a small alleyway and punching the solid brick wall as hard as he could, collapsing against the wall, cradling his limp hand and sobbing. It wasn’t so much crying as screaming, wails bursting out of him as he lay sprawled on the filthy ground, not noticing the twenty-some-odd girls who’d followed him that were standing at the end of the alleyway, staring at him confusedly.

            “Harry?” One of them asked timidly.

            He didn’t really hear the soft voice, but the last bit of togetherness in him snapped suddenly and he had to ball himself up, pressing his forehead to his knees as he continued to sob, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

            One of the girls ended up calling an ambulance, and several EMTs dragged him to his feet- he struggled against their hands, his auto-piloted body not understanding.  There were of course pictures of the incident later, in magazines, on twitter, on tumblr, and videos on YouTube.  They all very clearly showed him crying, with a mangled hand and disheveled appearance. 

            The nurses finally managed to calm him down at the hospital as they bandaged up his hand, splinting his broken pinky and bandaging the cuts on his knuckles.  They called the boys for him, and it took barely ten minutes for them to find him. Zayn entered first, by himself.

            “Harry,” he said, sitting beside him on the examination table. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

            “I don’t know,” Harry said. “I’m sorry.”

            “I’m going to be okay, Harry.”

            “Cancer,” Harry said simply.

            “I’m fine, Harry,” Zayn said, resting his hand on Harry’s knee. “Don’t worry about me.”

            “I’m sorry to cause a scene like this.”

            “It’s okay.”

            “No, it’s not fair of me to run out and throw a fit when it’s you who’s sick,” Harry said. “I’m an idiot.”

            “No, you’re not,” Zayn said. “I know that wasn’t you being a diva, that was you caring.”

            “Are you really going to be okay?” Harry asked, nudging Zayn’s knee lightly with his own.

            Zayn leaned into him. “Of course I’m going to be okay.”

**************************************************************

            “Fuck.”

            Niall barreled into the kitchen when he heard breaking glass, eyes wide. “What happened?”

            “I cut my hand while I was chopping vegetables and I knocked a cup off the counter trying to get to the sink,” Zayn said, cradling his bleeding hand in the other, staring down at the shattered glass.

            “Just focus on your hand, I’ll get the glass,” Niall insisted, grabbing a broom. “How deep is the cut?”

            “I don’t know, there’s blood, I can’t…”

            Harry happened to walk in then, in the middle of some sentence that he’d probably thought they were listening to. “Zayn!” he exclaimed after a pause of shock. “What happened?”

            “It’s fine, it’s not bleeding heavily,” Zayn said. “I just need a bandage.”

            “You’re sure?” Harry asked, taking a bandage from a drawer and carefully unwrapping it, stretching it over the cut on Zayn’s thumb. 

            “Of course,” Zayn said. “Don’t worry.”

            “Too late,” Harry said. “I’m just a bucket of worries.”

            “That’s stupid, Harry,” Zayn said. “There’s no purpose.”

            Harry found his hand curving around the side of Zayn’s face lightly. “I can’t help it.”      

            Niall dumped the swept-up glass into the garbage then, and Harry flinched, his hand dropping away from Zayn’s face.

            “Now that the drama’s finished,” Niall said. “I was just wondering…is management planning to announce this to the public, or will they play any issues off as fatigue?”

            “I don’t know,” Zayn said. “I think this time it’s up to me.  But my hair’s been falling out, so I doubt we’ll be able to hide it even if I wanted to.”

            “It’s falling out?” Liam asked suddenly, peering in through the doorway. “It’s only been a month!”

            Zayn shrugged, brushing a hand over his head and coming away with a clump of hair that he quickly threw in the garbage.

            “I’m thinking I’ll just shave it and get it over with,” Zayn said. “That’d be easier than this.”

*************************************

            “Just do it,” Zayn said, closing his eyes.

            Harry hesitated, his finger pausing on the electric razor’s switch.  
            “Harry.”

            The flick of the switch triggered a loud buzzing, and Zayn flinched slightly as Harry started pulling the razor across Zayn’s already thinning hair. Zayn didn’t open his eyes until it was finished, and the little gasping breath that escaped him gave him away- he was acting strong, unaffected, but little things like this hurt him. 

            “Zayn,” Harry said, trying to get him to look away from his reflection. “It’s fine.”

            Zayn blinked rapidly, his eyes obviously wet.  He pressed his lips together, shaking his head.

            “I’m being stupid,” Zayn said. “It’s just hair, it’ll grow back.”

            Harry nodded emphatically.

            “I don’t want cancer, Harry,” Zayn said, the tears in his eyes running down his cheeks abruptly, accompanied by a small sob. “I want to be normal again.”

            Harry pulled Zayn out of the chair, turning him away from the mirror and hugging him. “You _are_ normal, Zayn, and you’re perfect.”

*********************************

            The drive to the so-called ‘cancer interview’ was solemn, much more subdued than normal.  Zayn had a beanie pulled over his head, completely hiding the fact that his hair was all gone.  His eyebrows and eyelashes had started to go, but they still looked basically normal.

            They still rushed the walk between the car and the studio- it was a morning show, and the interviewers had not been informed of Zayn’s condition yet.  They were under the impression that it was a regular, mundane interview, and they had a song scheduled for the end.

            They only had to wait around for a short while before they were led to the immediate backstage area.  The stylists had griped about Zayn’s hat, but let him keep it on.  They were planning to make an announcement, but as Zayn thought about it, he realized he wouldn’t be able to get the words out, let alone listen to one of his best friends say it.  So when the cue came for them to walk onstage, Zayn simply removed the beanie and walked out with the other boys, the hat clutched tightly in his hand. 

            Harry walked out behind him, and saw the quick change and gave Zayn’s free hand a slight squeeze before letting go, not wanting the cameras to pick the exchange up.

            The interviewers, a man and a woman, stared at them, their smiles faltering slightly as the five boys took their seats.  The fans outside the studio’s windows started screaming wordlessly.

            “So, ah, we, ah see that you’ve gotten a pretty dramatic haircut, Zayn,” the woman said. “What made you decide to change it?”

            Harry’s hand found Zayn’s knee, and he could feel his grip tighten inexplicably as Zayn said the horrid word.

            “Cancer.”

            There was a tense pause, and then the man spoke. “So this is your way of showing support for people out there with cancer? That is simply incredible.  Do you know someone with cancer, is that why?”

            “No,” Zayn said, his voice steady. “No, _I_ have cancer.”

            The hosts remained silent for a long, uncomfortable moment, staring at Zayn.

            “He’s started chemotherapy a month ago,” Harry offered. 

            “It’s Hodgkin’s lymphoma,” Zayn said. “I have a ninety percent chance to live.”

            They all smiled awkwardly, waiting for the hosts to say something.  The fans were shrieking outside, and Harry could see with a glance that the majority of them were crying.

            The female host struggled for words for a few moments, glancing around.  “Is the tour still going to go on?”

            “Of course,” Zayn said. “Cancer is just a disease, it can’t stop me.”

            The rest of the interview was terribly awkward, and they had to set up barricades to get the boys out of the studio and into the car.  They all kept their heads down, not looking around at the fans as they rushed into the car, not wanting to see the strangers who were all sobbing; pity for Zayn etched on their faces.

             “I would say the hard part’s over,” Louis said. “But…”

            They actually laughed, all breaking out into a fit of hysterical laughter as the car started to pull away from the curb and inched into the street. The tinted windows were fortunate, as paparazzi photos of them laughing after announcing Zayn’s illness would probably start some rumors.

            The rumors ended up coming anyway- headlines insinuating that Zayn’s cancer was a fake publicity stunt, that the cancer was a cover up for something else, a management ploy…

**************************************

            Zayn wasn’t determined cancer-free for several years- the doctor’s appointment that he was declared in remission was on his twenty second birthday.  They’d only cancelled three concerts over the course of his treatment- they refused to go onstage without him, and he had been stuck in the hospital several times, usually because of some other disease that his weakened immune system had let through.  All the times they did have concerts, Zayn had to wear a surgical mask to avoid getting some random disease- the fans didn’t mind, they still showed up and bought albums and posters and DVDs galore.

            They’d been expecting a positive result when Zayn went in for a meeting with his doctor- he brought Harry and Niall with him, as Louis and Liam were at some radio interview.  The doctor walked in smiling, which instantly suggested that there was good news to be had.

            The moment the doctor said the words ‘cancer-free’, Niall started cheering.  Zayn started crying, and Harry suddenly launched out of his seat, pulling Zayn against him and kissing him, not thinking as he did so.

            There was a long silence after Harry let go.  The doctor was staring at them, eyebrows raised, and Niall was grinning.

            “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” Zayn said, still crying slightly as he hugged Harry tightly, pressing his face into Harry’s neck.

            The doctor cleared his throat and started talking about some post-cancer necessities and then finally left, instructing Zayn to make a check-up appointment.

            Zayn called his mom, smiling at her excited screaming. 

            Niall called the other boys, putting his phone on speaker so Zayn and Harry could hear their cheering.  They were still in the middle of the radio interview, and Zayn announced to the world via a cell phone that he had been declared cancer-free.

            On the way out of the hospital wing, a young girl saw them and jumped out of her seat, grabbing Zayn’s elbow. 

            “Zayn!” she exclaimed. “This is your hospital?”

             Her mom grabbed her wrist, tugging her back. “I’m so sorry,” she said, pulling her daughter away. 

            Zayn turned, sitting in the seat next to the girl. Harry and Niall stood waiting as Zayn spoke to the girl.

            “Why are you in the cancer wing?”

            She smiled brightly. “I have- what is it again, mom? Yeah, acute lymphosomething leukemia,” she said.

            Zayn stared at her happy expression. “Are you worried?”

            Her face faded slightly. “Were you worried when you found out about yours?”

            “Yes,” Zayn said.

            Her gaze flicked down briefly. “Me, too,” she said.

            “You’re going to be fine,” Zayn said.  “I promise.”

            Her mother reluctantly took a picture of them and then sent the boys a glare that sent them rushing out of the hospital. 

            Zayn’s hand found Harry’s as they were walking out, not letting go as a small handful of paparazzi cameras flashed.         

            “How do you feel?” Harry asked, linking their fingers in a slight movement.

            Zayn smiled. “I feel perfect.”


End file.
